Go Back to April 15

By Kyle K. Mann

April 16, 2015

I’ve been writing, revising, and researching my UFO piece for Gonzo Today all day in a quiet frenzy. I feel it’s as good as I can make it, and just sent it off to the Gonzo Editors. I think my Alien Programming, keeping me from writing, discussing or even thinking about the I-5 UFO must have worn off. That’s good, right?

Meanwhile, 40 years ago… 40, really? 40 freaking years? Damn, man. Ok, let’s open the funky battered first journal. Let’s see…

Wed. April 16, 1975

“have left above entry in original condition” 11:30 AM woke up after yesterday’s LSD binge / hitch to Sausalito / Family Light space out. Taped fet bag. Shaved. Now scrawling next to heater.

Should begin logical analysis of L.A. Cruise. Ab & Mary, White’s neighbors are among the total great units I met- others, Aralee, Anne Baker [end of entry]

April 16, 2015

I liken this entry to trying to start a balky engine. Ruh-ruh-ruh… It wants to kick over but can’t quite get going. I notice I did get to mention Aralee Hambro. I shake my head, still unable to realize she’s dead 20 years. No. Can’t be.

What fascinates me is that I could take acid and hitchhike. Really? I wouldn’t dream of such mania now. Such an act indicates a complete craziness that is mindlessly casual. But not only did I do so, I went to the late lamented Family Light School of Music, where I was presumably teaching harmonica.

I don’t remember much of the details. I had a couple students with promise who later became performers and recording artists, so I guess I did something right with the teaching. The “fet bag” begs explanation, I admit. It was a sleeping bag I had borrowed that was falling apart from continual use. “Fet” was fetid, a component of a particular lingo I had developed. The entry starts referring to the previous day’s entry, which was cut off, presumably to blast into the far reaches of the Galaxy.

So, I sit here laughing on my porch in Topanga. The kid wants to write, and now I’m paying the price. But I think there is a certain value in doing this transcribing and commentary. After all, this is how a writer gets started. And somehow, even this spaced out kid managed it, just by sheer dogged determination. But these first entries are puzzling, and almost like translating a lost language.

Deep breath, and gaze out at the fantastic view. Birds chirp, an outraged dog barks in the middle distance, a car drives up the road to the State Park, which I’ll be walking in in a few minutes. No work calls from contractors. The wind is gone, I feel healthy, and I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything.

I do have a big prayer though, for a friend I talked to yesterday who has a serious medical condition. I could hardly believe it when she told me. I say a big prayer for her. I love her dearly, and am determined that she recover. Life is so terrifyingly short. So damn short. My eyes mist up for her, and I decide it is time to get going. The kid, and I, will be back tomorrow, with The Blessing.

Jump forward to April 17

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About Kyle K. Mann 89 Articles
Kyle K. Mann is the pen name of a contributor to, and publisher of, Gonzo Today. He lives high atop Topanga, California, where owls hoot and coyotes howl. A recording musician since the 70s and radio broadcaster in multiple fields in the '80s and '90s, Kyle sometimes supports himself part time as a Union film crew member in Hollywood. His articles and interviews first appeared in Gonzo Today in early 2015, and some of them are fairly good.